


Writing with Wine

by The_Doomed_Poet_Rises (orphan_account)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AU, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 13:51:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/The_Doomed_Poet_Rises
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aspiring author Arthur Kirkland has hit a stumbling block in the path to his career. It's called writer's block, and he needs to find a way around it - fast. He's tried and tried, but nothing seems to work. Can a handsome blonde stranger show him that there's more to life than work, and maybe help him finish his book along the way?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Writing with Wine

** Chapter One **

_Kirk Bennett, pirate captain of the mighty Bernadette, stood holding the mast and staring out at the horizon. It was gorgeous at this time of day; twilight. The sun was now setting over the waves in the distance, and Kirk and his crew were making their departure from port in Singapore. The beauty of the night seemed out of place; seemed too pure to be gracing a rowdy crew of pirates with its existence. It was an unusually peaceful night on the Bernadette, until –_  
  
Arthur Kirkland sighed, taking a sip of the Herbal Mint Tea in front of him and looking out at the slowly creeping twilight in his own world. "Until _what?_ "  
  
The blonde pushed aside his laptop and put his head in his hands. His deadline was in three months, and here he was sitting in the same café he'd been frequenting for years and stuck in the same rut he'd been in for months. Not only could the poor Brit not get past the opening paragraph, he didn't even have a title yet! He had no idea where the story should go, and the aspiring author felt nauseous thinking of his agent finding out…  
  
His literary agent, one Mr. Roderich Edelstein, would eat him alive if he ever found out Arthur had lied about the novel's status when he told him it was almost complete. After several unsuccessful pitches, this one had peaked Roddy's interest. This was Arthur's last chance and he had a sinking feeling he was going to blow it.  
  
"What am I going to _do?_ " The blonde sighed again, rubbing his tired green eyes before moving his hands away from his face - and promptly being scared half to death. "Who the bloody hell are you?"  
  
The 'you' being in reference to the sandy-blonde haired man suddenly standing next to Arthur's corner booth, glancing down at him with an intense gaze that was quickly swapped for a pleasant smile.  
  
" _Bonjour, mon ami,_ my name is Francis." The man smiled and dropped a sly wink, the French accent and speech hitting the Brit's ears like music. "But you can call me whatever gets me into your bed."  
  
Arthur scowled, cheeks flushing traitorously. "I'd rather call a waitress to have you thrown out." He really hated people like him. Blatant playboys who only ever wanted one thing, talking like he was already guaranteed to come home with him...  
  
"Oh, be reasonable mon cher. Can't a man make a joke?" He paused, still smiling, and gestured to the open bench. "May I sit?"  
  
Arthur sighed, "Do what you want…public place and all." Permission granted, he promptly returned his head to his hands.  
  
"Am I that unattractive?" Francis joked.  
  
"No, it's not you…" Arthur looked up begrudgingly, scowl still half-heartedly in place, but didn't exactly meet the other's eyes. "I'm trying to write something, and I have terrible writer's block… And a deadline in three months…"  
  
"What are you writing?" The Frenchman asked.  
  
"A fiction about pirates…" The Brit murmured with still-flushed cheeks, slightly embarrassed. Some people found it childish, but pirates had always been a subject of interest for him and he thought it would make for a good story.  
  
"And what happens in your pirate fiction, _cher_?"  
  
"That's the problem. I don't know!" Arthur sighed, exasperated and trying not to sound frantic.  
  
"Ah, I see." Francis nodded. "You should try writing outside of your comfort area."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You write adventure fiction." Arthur nodded. "So try something else instead. Try science fiction, or drama, or… romance?"  
  
Arthur nodded slowly, mulling the idea over in his head. "Maybe… maybe that would work…. Thank you, Francis."  
  
He'd run out of his own options; trying this couldn't hurt. Hastily, he packed up his computer, put down the money for his tea and grabbed his scarf from the bench. With little more than a distracted nod to Francis and a brief goodbye to the barista, the writer left the shop to head home where he could work in peace.  
  
\--  
  
It didn't work. After five hours, full of Arthur typing away like a madman, deleting and typing some more, four cups of tea and two trips to the bathroom, nothing he tried had worked. He'd tried writing western, sci-fi, fantasy, and even tragedy and angst. None of them had worked at all, and now he was exhausted. A glance at his clock told him it was nine o'clock, a bit early to retire, but maybe if he got a better night's rest, he could work on his pirate story more effectively in the morning.  
  
As he changed and got into bed, Arthur found his mind wandering back to Francis in the café. _Was he really trying to flirt with_ me _?_ The Brit shook his head to clear these crazy thoughts. _No way, of course not. A playboy like him probably automatically flirts with everyone like that…he did say it was a joke, and I barely know the man._ With that cleared up, the blonde man got into bed and shut off his lamp, drifting off into a deep sleep.


End file.
